


A Comfortable Slump

by Abreannero



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Red Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 11:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/572871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abreannero/pseuds/Abreannero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every morning was the same: a cool glass of milk and a kiss or two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Comfortable Slump

In the beginning, he had complained endlessly about this insanely complicated world they were thrust in. Stupid humans and their daylight schedule. Stupid humans and their foods. Stupid humans and their stupid milk. 

Nepeta insisted on him drinking a full glass of it every morning with her at the table. He thought it disgusting, too light and airy, too fresh and cold, too different from Alternian milk. She pawed at his shoulder and offered her signature smile, said that cats had to stick together in a lactose-powered world. He frowned, downed his glass, and kissed her anyway. 

Eventually, Karkat awoke earlier and earlier. First at ten, then nine, then eight, the hours spiraling back until he was watching the sun rise every morning, regardless of whether he had work or school or if she was even awake. With a cool glass in his hands, he leaned against the kitchen counter, watched the beams of oddly comforting sunlight peek between cracks of separate buildings. 

She would stumble down the hall just as he finished his full eight ounces, a sweater of his own fitting almost too perfectly on her petite body. Yawning large enough to display her lethal teeth, she kissed his cheek, could smell the milk on his tongue and ask if he had been drinking it.

As always, Karkat replied no, and gestured to the second glass on the counter, full to the brim. Both knew it was a blatant lie, and he observed with a quirked mouth how she lapped at the surface with her tongue before taking a sip. 

Their conversations were more or less the same every day, soft murmurs and purrs, kisses to the temple and teasing licks to the side of the mouth that were returned with tentative hip touches. Too much for sunlight, he mused. 

His hands never strayed from her skin, claws absently picking at the hem of the boxers she wore to sleep; he grumbled that those were also his and Nepeta nipped at his lower lip to shut him up, at least for the moment. 

Remnants of sopor were droplets in her hair, and Karkat sighed against her cheek when they fell against her shoulders and promptly absorbed by the fabrics of the sweater. Kissing the tip of his nose, Nepeta set her glass down. Milk could wait. 

As the sun climbed the ladder into the sky, they resonated purrs from chest to chest. Words soon stopped, merely chirps jumping like slow electricity from mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue. He was gentle, like he could break her, his thumbs moving sloth-like circles into her pelvis. Claws pricked his bare shoulders, he jumped, though never ceased. 

Her taste was unrivaled, like his tongue had been dipped in pure sugar. How they advanced so swiftly and yet so sluggishly was a dragging mystery that he assumed were illusions brought by milk.

Tenderly, her palms kneaded the half-moons were she had wounded him, the beads of blood worked against his skin and he sent satisfied grumbles of affection against the side of her mouth, lingering thank-yous on her undefined jaw. 

“Haaah..” Another sigh, this time to her neck, “You’re beautiful.” 

A kiss that loitered on his ear, “You mean everything to me.”


End file.
